Marya Dmitrievna, having found Sonya weeping in the corridor, madeher confess everything, and intercepting the note to Natasha sheread it and went into Natasha's room with it in her hand.

"You shameless good-for-nothing!" said she. "I won't hear a word."

Pushing back Natasha who looked at her with astonished buttearless eyes, she locked her in; and having given orders to theyard porter to admit the persons who would be coming that evening, butnot to let them out again, and having told the footman to bring themup to her, she seated herself in the drawing room to await theabductors.

When Gabriel came to inform her that the men who had come had runaway again, she rose frowning, and clasping her hands behind her pacedthrough the rooms a long time considering what she should do. Towardmidnight she went to Natasha's room fingering the key in her pocket.Sonya was sitting sobbing in the corridor. "Marya Dmitrievna, forGod's sake let me in to her!" she pleaded, but Marya Dmitrievnaunlocked the door and went in without giving her an answer...."Disgusting, abominable... In my house... horrid girl, hussy! I'm onlysorry for her father!" thought she, trying to restrain her wrath."Hard as it may be, I'll tell them all to hold their tongues andwill hide it from the count." She entered the room with resolutesteps. Natasha lying on the sofa, her head hidden in her hands, andshe did not stir. She was in just the same position in which MaryaDmitrievna had left her.

"A nice girl! Very nice!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "Arranging meetingswith lovers in my house! It's no use pretending: you listen when Ispeak to you!" And Marya Dmitrievna touched her arm. "Listen when whenI speak! You've disgraced yourself like the lowest of hussies. I'dtreat you differently, but I'm sorry for your father, so I willconceal it."

Natasha did not change her position, but her whole body heavedwith noiseless, convulsive sobs which choked her. Marya Dmitrievnaglanced round at Sonya and seated herself on the sofa beside Natasha.

"It's lucky for him that he escaped me; but I'll find him!" she saidin her rough voice. "Do you hear what I am saying or not?" she added.

She put her large hand under Natasha's face and turned it towardher. Both Marya Dmitrievna and Sonya were amazed when they saw howNatasha looked. Her eyes were dry and glistening, her lips compressed,her cheeks sunken.

"Let me be!... What is it to me?... I shall die!" she muttered,wrenching herself from Marya Dmitrievna's hands with a viciouseffort and sinking down again into her former position.

"Natalie!" said Marya Dmitrievna. "I wish for your good. Liestill, stay like that then, I won't touch you. But listen. I won'ttell you how guilty you are. You know that yourself. But when yourfather comes back tomorrow what am I to tell him? Eh?"

Again Natasha's body shook with sobs.

"Suppose he finds out, and your brother, and your betrothed?"

"I have no betrothed: I have refused him!" cried Natasha.

"That's all the same," continued Dmitrievna. "If they hear ofthis, will they let it pass? He, your father, I know him... if hechallenges him to a duel will that be all right? Eh?"

"But what did you want?" cried Marya Dmitrievna, growing angryagain. "Were you kept under lock and key? Who hindered his coming tothe house? Why carry you off as if you were some gypsy singinggirl?... Well, if he had carried you off... do you think they wouldn'thave found him? Your father, or brother, or your betrothed? And he's ascoundrel, a wretch- that's a fact!"

"He is better than any of you!" exclaimed Natasha getting up. "Ifyou hadn't interfered... Oh, my God! What is it all? What is it?Sonya, why?... Go away!"

And she burst into sobs with the despairing vehemence with whichpeople bewail disasters they feel they have themselves occasioned.Marya Dmitrievna was to speak again but Natasha cried out:

"Go away! Go away! You all hate and despise me!" and she threwherself back on the sofa.

Marya Dmitrievna went on admonishing her for some time, enjoining onher that it must all be kept from her father and assuring her thatnobody would know anything about it if only Natasha herself wouldundertake to forget it all and not let anyone see that something hadhappened. Natasha did not reply, nor did she sob any longer, but shegrew cold and had a shivering fit. Marya Dmitrievna put a pillow underher head, covered her with two quilts, and herself brought her somelime-flower water, but Natasha did not respond to her.

"Well, let her sleep," said Marya Dmitrievna as she went of the roomsupposing Natasha to be asleep.

But Natasha was not asleep; with pale face and fixed wide-openeyes she looked straight before her. All that night she did notsleep or weep and did not speak to Sonya who got up and went to herseveral times.

Next day Count Rostov returned from his estate near Moscow in timefor lunch as he had promised. He was in very good spirits; theaffair with the purchaser was going on satisfactorily, and there wasnothing to keep him any longer in Moscow, away from the countesswhom he missed. Marya Dmitrievna met him and told him that Natasha hadbeen very unwell the day before and that they had sent for the doctor,but that she was better now. Natasha had not left her room thatmorning. With compressed and parched lips and dry fixed eyes, shesat at the window, uneasily watching the people who drove past andhurriedly glancing round at anyone who entered the room. She wasevidently expecting news of him and that he would come or wouldwrite to her.

When the count came to see her she turned anxiously round at thesound of a man's footstep, and then her face resumed its cold andmalevolent expression. She did not even get up to greet him. "Whatis the matter with you, my angel? Are you ill?" asked the count.

After a moment's silence Natasha answered: "Yes, ill."

In reply to the count's anxious inquiries as to why she was sodejected and whether anything had happened to her betrothed, sheassured him that nothing had happened and asked him not to worry.Marya Dmitrievna confirmed Natasha's assurances that nothing hadhappened. From the pretense of illness, from his daughter'sdistress, and by the embarrassed faces of Sonya and MaryaDmitrievna, the count saw clearly that something had gone wrong duringhis absence, but it was so terrible for him to think that anythingdisgraceful had happened to his beloved daughter, and he so prized hisown cheerful tranquillity, that he avoided inquiries and tried toassure himself that nothing particularly had happened; and he was onlydissatisfied that her indisposition delayed their return to thecountry.

From the day his wife arrived in Moscow Pierre had been intending togo away somewhere, so as not to be near her. Soon after the Rostovscame to Moscow the effect Natasha had on him made him hasten tocarry out his intention. He went to Tver to see Joseph Alexeevich'swidow, who had long since promised to hand over to him some papersof her deceased husband's.When he returned to Moscow Pierre was handed a letter from MaryaDmitrievna asking him to come and see her on a matter of greatimportance relating to Andrew Bolkonski and his betrothed. Pierrehad been avoiding Natasha because it seemed

Anatole went out of the room and returned a few minutes laterwearing a fur coat girt with a silver belt, and a sable cap jauntilyset on one side and very becoming to his handsome face. Havinglooked in a mirror, and standing before Dolokhov in the same pose hehad assumed before it, he lifted a glass of wine."Well, good-by, Theodore. Thank you for everything and farewell!"said Anatole. "Well, comrades and friends..." he considered for amoment "...of my youth, farewell!" he said, turning to Makarin and theothers.Though they were all going with him, Anatole evidently wished tomake something touching and solemn out of